“Hey, relax, it’s not you, I just need to go for a drive, clear my head, OK?”

“Screw your head, you leave then don’t have to come back, I don’t want you to come back.”

The guy blew right through the light at Jackson. I never saw him, never had a chance to break or swerve or tell Chrissy I loved her, and the last anyone saw of me was an undertaker who told Chrissy the casket should remain closed.

I guess the moral of the whole thing is to be careful what you ask for.